i f6c06dd9cf3fe221 by Unknown (100 books to read in a lifetime .txt) 📗

isn't the only one with bad legs, you know. Look, run round to the shop and get me a quarter stone of taties and twopennorth o' pot stuff. And there's a penny for yerself. "

Annie hesitated.

"Go on, hinny," urged Dorrie.

"It won't take you a minute.... Surely you don't mind going to the shop for me. You, with good legs on yer, and me, in the state I am."

Annie took the money and the bag and hurried out.

"That bitch is as cute as a box o' monkeys," Dorrie muttered to herself.

She listened until she heard the back door dose, then she glanced down at Sarah. Not long for the top, she's not. No trouble from her. Nowl Hurrying out as softly as a cat, she made her way to Kate's room. Not much place to hide owl here. She made straight for the chest of drawers, and went through them. In the bottom one she found what she wanted. By God, there weren't 'alf some of them, too. Bundles of them, done up in ribbons. Well, well! Split yer sides, yer could.

She extracted a letter here and there, taking six in all, and she was back, sitting beside Sarah, within a few minutes.

The idea had Erst entered her mind some months ago, but when he had been reported missing there was no sense in doing it. But now . well, things were just as they were before, but she wasn't letting on.

Mary Dixon's brother had given her the idea. He was a postman, and he had remarked, "That Kate Hannigan's bloke out in France does some writing; she stands on the doorstep waiting for letters every post ...

and she gets them. He must have nowt else to do." And when Mary Dixon got her the job, mornings, at the doctor's, after their cook had left, she began to hear things, and see quite a bit, too. It was then the use to which some of the letters could be put had entered her mind.

It was another score she held against him, that she had to go out charing and cooking, and her a midwife. For never a case had she had in years, and all through him . and now she was working at his house 1

What would he say to that, if he knew? Her time would be short, she guessed. Well, he wouldn't know; he was nicely set for a long time yet. God blast him and keep him there I She liked his wife no better than she did him . snotty bitch! And she was having a nice titty-fallal with the other doctor, wasn't she now. And another bloke in the offing, Mary said. Thinking this over, it had occurred to Dorrie that her mistress might find her husband's letters to another woman useful, should things become too hot for her with her couple of fancy men. And she would likely stump up a pretty penny to get them by God, yes! She would stump up, if she had anything to do with it.

Ah! She sighed contentedly; shed waited a long time to get even with him . but God was good.

She was sitting placidly on the chair, her hands folded in her lap, when Annie returned.

"That's a good lass. Now I'll have to go, I'm afraid.... Yer granny hasn't woken up so I won't disturb her. Tell her I just popped in."

As she went out, Annie thought. Oh, Kate will be vexed. But what could I do? I don't know whether to tell her or not.

^7

It was late in the afternoon, and Kate was cleaning the brasses when Annie said, "Dorrie Clarke came to see grandma this morning, when you were out."

"What!" Kate turned on her.

"I couldn't help it... I couldn't stop her; she came into the bedroom without knocking."

"You should have said ... oh, you couldn't, I suppose."

She put the candlestick down slowly on the table.

"How long did she stay?" she asked flatly.

"Not long, about five minutes... or ten."

"What did she say?"

"Not much. Just how was grandma ... and she said her legs were bad, too. She asked me..." Annie stopped. Should she tell Kate that she had gone a message for Dorrie Clarke and left her in the house with her grand. ma? No, she wouldn't; perhaps it would make her more I vexed.

Kate looked at her sharply.

"Well, what did she ask you?"

"Only about grandma."

"Nothing else?"

No. "

Kate stood a moment looking out of the kitchen window. What did it matter, anyway? Dorrie Clarke could do no more harm.

Saying to Annie, "Will you finish these for me?" she washed her hands and went upstairs.

In her own room, she sat on the foot of the bed and leant her head wearily on the brass rail. She felt suddenly tired, not the exhausting tiredness that the end of each day brought to her body, but a tiredness that seemed to drain the very spirit from her. Why, oh why had she to go through all this? One thing after another piling up no respite.

The fact of Dorrie Clarke being in the house had created another dread.

But what, she asked herself, need she fear from Dorrie Clarke now? If he were ;

still alive there might be cause to worry. She gripped the ; bedrail. But he wasn't dead . he wasn't! Oh God, | don't let him be dead! she prayed. I'll do anything, anything. Jesus, save him I Do what you like with me, only ;

don't let him die.

The old bargaining was in her prayer. She recognised it, but was too weary to scorn it. She slumped down, her hands dropping into her lap.

Was God